We had a great time with our Christmas gathering and hope that our guests did as well. With much able assistance, we got the meal on the table on time and dined well. A small team packed up the leftovers so that we could clear the table for the desserts. In the spirit of celebration, we consumed the annual caloric intake of a third-world nation.

The day evolved at a good pace and we were able to talk with everyone, although not at any great length. One of our nieces is moving to Los Angeles in the spring. Another in our extended family moved into a new apartment last week. Joe gave me a framed photo of Tom Brady. Santa brought American Girl dolls to Krista and Tess. Krista came to the party with the cutest curls in her long hair.

As expected, my father stayed home. We'll take a container of leftovers to him this afternoon. We had suggested that we would like to take him out to dinner at his favorite restaurant, Denny's, but he wasn't too sure about that.

Sandra and I talked for quite a while after the last people left, reviewing what went well and not so well. Maybe we take this too seriously, but we want to do a good job. If we're worried about getting the water and butter to people while they're eating, we will hurry past someone who'd like to talk and no doubt will hurt that person's feelings. That happened a couple of times. Someone came in with a gift. I was busy in the kitchen and set the gift aside until too late. Feelings are hurt by the little missteps as much as by the bigger failings.

Serving a meal to 30 people would be a slow lunch hour in almost any restaurant. I had one job in a diner where I worked six days a week for $65 (plus meals, if I could stand them). Granted, it's a lot easier to cook meals for lots of people when you have commercial-grade grills, ovens, stoves, refrigerators, and prep counters. But the customers are grumpier and you've got management around. The co-owner of the diner would have his evening meal, a plain burger with a salad on the side, the Russian salad dressing made up of a mix of mayonnaise, ketchup, and relish. We sliced our own pickles and cut up our own French fries. Clarence did the fries. Clarence had a room-temperature IQ, but he could peel, blanch, and cut potatoes.

We have a quiet day ahead, with a visit to my father the only event planned. We are expecting snow overnight, so I need to bring in wood.